Serious journalism is losing ground as short-form videos increasingly become the public’s primary source of news
Graphic content and privacy violations raise serious ethical concerns
Popularity on the app overrides accuracy
TikTok delivers fast, engaging news but lacks fact-checking
TikTok is designed to promote short videos, catering to a shorter attention span among its target audience. In a few scrolls on the app, one can learn about natural disasters in other countries, corruption, and bombing of ATM’s etc.
Scale showing the preferred platforms for news consumption among younger generations. Photo: Dikeledi Ramabula
At first the app was used for comedy, dance trends and lip-syncing challenges but now TikTok is changing the way media works. As more users make use of it for news, an important question emerges: is this good for journalism?
The answer is complicated. Comment sections of TikTok news creators like Jaxx Amahle, Amani Dube and Dylan Page, have people saying, “I don’t watch news at all, I follow you to get latest updates” and some say, “You make news sounds fun. That is why I follow you because generally news is boring”.
TikTok’s reach is indisputable, with the dominant presence of Gen Z, it has the power to shape public opinion faster than traditional outlets. In time of crisis, from the war in Gaza to wildfires in California, the app has outpaced traditional media providing unfolding, raw, and unfiltered events. The users offer real time flow of information that is immediate and feels authentic.
However, this is where the danger lies. On TikTok there is no fact-checking, which makes it easy for inaccurate information to spread faster. The accounts that have a large following and number of likes, are most likely to be seen as credible meaning people believe what is shared on such accounts without questioning.
It is difficult to tell the difference between what is true and what is not from TikTok citizen journalists. This comes with several risks because if individuals don’t recognize when something is false, a lot of damage can be done like the spread of misinformation, damage to reputation etc.
Some of these creators share information inaccurately and unethically. For example, they often reveal the names of sexual assault victims, along with where they go to school or work.
Sometimes, while scrolling through the app, I come across graphic footage of people bleeding to death at accident scenes, all because so-called “citizen journalists” feel the need to show every detail. Imagine being a parent and opening the app only to see your child dead in such a scene—how does one ever heal from something like that?
What is undeniable is that many find TikTok a convenient and fun platform to get news. But it is also true that some of the so-called news may be misinformation or disinformation. Thus, good fact-based journalism remains relevant regardless of the increasing influence of platforms such as TikTok.
FEATURED IMAGE: Scale showing the preferred platforms for news consumption among younger generations. Photo; Dikeledi Ramabula
Pope Leo XIV may be American, but his impact will be felt across the globe. He is here to lead all Catholics, not just his countrymen.
As a lifelong Catholic, I too watched the chimney of the Sistine Chapel on May 8, with anticipation. After one unsuccessful vote, white smoke finally billowed, the bells rang, and the Catholic world waited to meet its new pope.
This moment, usually marked by unity and reverence, quickly shifted into a debate.
Not about faith, but about nationality.
For the first time in history, the Pope is American, and this has stoked political anxiety. Pope Leo XIV, formerly Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost, has barely had time to settle into the papacy, and his past is already being dissected with a fervour we haven’t seen before, for a new pope.
His voting history and perceived ideological leanings are being examined with a scrutiny that one would expect for a political candidate, not for a faith leader. Those doing the digging are not just internet sleuths or political fanatics. Respected media houses have joined in too, legitimising this politicisation of the new pope.
Al Jazeera reported that according to Pope Leo ‘s voter information, his party affiliation is undeclared, but “he voted in the 2012, 2014 and 2016 Republican primaries”, which implies a connection with the Republican party. A primary is an election that political parties in the United States use to select candidates for the general election. The New York Times, ABC News and NBC News also reported on the Pope’s recent voting record.
This response is not entirely surprising. America has become an extremely politically divisive nation, so a global figure of authority coming from that landscape is bound to be scrutinised.
Understanding the Pope’s views on contentious issues like abortion, violence caused by war or political strife, contraception, refugees, or the role of women in the church is very important. After all, these views will ultimately shape the direction he chooses to steer the church. They will also impact every single member, especially young Catholics like me, who reconcile their faith with modern life every day.
However, it is important that his views are not seen as an extension of the American voice.
The Pope is not a symbol of American Catholicism. He is the spiritual leader of over a billion Catholics across the world. Reducing his leadership to being defined by American political discourse undermines the universality of the Catholic church.
The Pope’s influence is rooted in Rome, not in Washington.
Roman Catholic values should be the foundation of his leadership, not his personal beliefs (whatever they may be).
In his first Sunday address on May 11, I was impressed that he called for a ceasefire in Gaza, boldly saying “I would also like to address the powerful people of the world, repeating the always current call, no more war”.
On May 12, during the first news conference of his pontificate, he reaffirmed the church’s solidarity with journalists who have been imprisoned for calling out injustices. As a budding journalist, this endeared me to him to even more.
I anticipate that he will remain focused on the moral issues of our time, as he should.
The relevance of his leadership will be measured not by his country of origin, but by how well he advocates for justice, dignity for all, and peace on Earth.
FEATURED IMAGE: Mbali Khumalo, 2025 Wits Vuvuzela journalist. Photo: File/Paul Botes.
Joburg’s surcharge hike from R200 to R270, may target the city’s most vulnerable, burdening struggling residents under the guise of policy.
There is no financial transparency, the city has not shown how the R230 monthly charge improves service or infrastructure.
Public voices were ignored, and the policy was implemented without meaningful consultation.
The surcharge deepens inequality, disproportionately affecting low-income.
The City of Johannesburg’s R230 prepaid electricity surcharge, effective since July 2024, continues to weigh heavily on low-income households yet the city seems unmoved.
As a prepaid user myself, I have felt this increase choke an already tight budget. It’s no longer just about buying electricity; it is about being penalised every month before even switching on a single light.
The surcharge, split between a R70 service fee and a R130 network capacity charge, is meant to support infrastructure upkeep. But here’s the issue: this logic does not hold when the people being charged the most are the same ones who use prepaid to manage meagre incomes and are trying to avoid electricity debt.
BusinessTech recently reiterated that there’s still little clarity on where this surcharge money goes, with City Power unable to point to specific projects funded by it.
OUTA’s Julius Kleynhans rightly called it a “lazy fundraising mechanism,” and I agree. This is not proactive governance. It’s a blunt and careless solution to a deeper financial mismanagement issue in the city. Many of us budget for electricity weekly. That R230 could easily mean the difference between powering our homes or going without.
The city has defended the surcharge by saying it aims to target affluent users who moved to prepaid to dodge higher postpaid bills. But the data doesn’t back that up. According to OUTA, the city’s indigent register used to exempt vulnerable households is outdated and excludes thousands who qualify. So, who is really paying? Those of us in working-class neighbourhoods, pensioners, students, and unemployed residents, many of whom top up R20 at a time.
Even political parties have criticised the surcharge. ActionSA called it “anti-poor” and rejected the adjustment budget that included it. Meanwhile, the DA launched a petition that’s gained thousands of signatures, arguing that the city pushed the fee through without meaningful consultation
The sad irony? Those who steal electricity or don’t pay at all are unaffected. Those of us who play by the rules are being punished for it.
It is now May 2025, and nothing has changed. City Power recently doubled down, with CEO Tshifularo Mashava saying that those who can afford to live in areas with “big houses and electric fences” must pay more yet this broad brush unfairly paints every prepaid user as wealthy. It’s an assumption that ignores how diverse the city’s residents are and how unevenly income and infrastructure are distributed across the suburbs.
Electricity is not a luxury, it is a basic necessity. If Johannesburg wants to talk about sustainability and fairness, it must start with a policy that protects rather than punishes responsible users. Until then, this surcharge feels less like a service fee and more like a fine for being poor and trying to keep the lights on.
FEATURED IMAGE: A picture of a meter box. Photo: Lindelwa Khanyile
When power stops fearing protest, silence wins. This is a wake-up call on how South Africa’s loudest weapon is being disarmed.
Democratic South Africa was born through struggle. Its foundations were laid not in conference rooms, but in the streets carved out by those who refused to be silent. From the 1976 protest against the government’s policy of using Afrikaans as a medium of instruction in schools for Black students to the 1994 apartheid conquerors who got the first taste of freedom, the story of this nation has always been written in protest.
We protested against apartheid. We protested against economic exclusion. We protested for transformation in our schools and our institutions. In each case, protest was the only language those in power could not ignore.
We are a people who know those in power only listen when they are threatened, often violently. And it has been the history of our country’s leaders who respond not to the polite murmur of petitions but to the thunder of marching feet and tires burning.
But what happens when even that language starts to lose its meaning?
Protests have become more frequent and more urgent, yet they are ignored. Communities rise to demand water, electricity, housing and dignity, and yet these demands are met with the same routine: a visit from officials, a statement to the media, and a fake promise of “investigations”. Then, silence.
These issues persist, the cycle continues, and people begin to feel that speaking out changes nothing.
We can all remember the protest of 1976 when young people confronted the might of the apartheid state with nothing but conviction and clarity. They stood together because they believed in the power of their collective voice.
More recently, #FeesMustFall reminded us that protesting could still unsettle the powerful, but even then, the demand for free, decolonised education was diluted, redirected, and largely ignored.
I think the problem today is that the protest itself is being neutralised. Institutions have learnt to co-opt movements, to divide people, and offer symbolic gestures while preserving the status quo by either suspending, expelling or even criminalising protest action. A meeting here and there, tools to manage dissent without ever dealing with the problem.
Along with the above, the rise of individualism has made people easier to divide. In the age of likes, followers, and branded activism, the collective power that once drove our revolutions is fast fading.
We are now in a period where movements become moments and action becomes content. And real transformation is replaced by representation without change.
Institutions, both political and academic, have learnt to exploit this. They divide and conquer, selecting a few voices to ‘engage’, elevating individuals while ignoring the masses. In doing so, they extinguish the flame of the collective, turning urgent demands into manageable noise.
This is how protest dies, not with suppression, but with performance. Not with silence, but with strategic listening.
The tragedy is that we are living in a time when protest is needed more than ever. Economic inequality continues unabated. Corruption is a daily headline. Basic services have collapsed in many communities. And yet, when people rise, their voices bounce off a system trained to survive outrage.
We must remember that protest is not a problem. It is a pulse. It tells us when a democracy is in distress. To dismiss or defang a protest is to allow injustice to deepen in silence.
The choice is simple: either we rebuild the collective strength that once brought down giants, or we continue to shout into the wind while power pretends to listen.
The streets of Braamfontein pulse with life, the noise of taxi horns, chatter, and construction that never seems to cease. But beneath the vibrant surface, my reality as a Wits Journalism student is marked by the quiet struggles of balancing academia and financial pressures.
I recall one particularly grueling night, juggling living expenses, and last-minute modelling gigs to make ends meet. The clock struck midnight, and I was still typing a potential story pitch on my laptop, fueled by coffee and sheer determination.
This is the unseen reality of many student journalists – the late nights, the early mornings, and the constant juggling act.In the newsroom, I am surrounded by classmates who inspire me with their passion. We come from diverse backgrounds, but our pursuit of knowledge and personal growth unites us.
As we work together to produce high-quality content for the Wits Vuvuzela, I see first-hand the importance of teamwork and collaboration.
According to a study by the Student Press Law Center, student journalists face unique challenges, including financial constraints, limited resources, and the pressure to balance academia and journalism. My experience echoes these findings – the financial strain is palpable, and the pressure to perform academically weighs heavily.
This is not only my personal experience but, Kamvelihle Mtwazi, a fellow student journalist also said that not having funding is affecting her studies, as she must sometimes do field reporting which requires transportation money and lunch.This sentiment echoes the struggles many of us face in pursuing our journalistic endeavors.But despite these challenges, we have found a way to thrive.
Likho Mbuka, a fellow student journalist, notes that discipline and time management are key to crafting news-worthy stories.I have seen this play out in our team’s weekly production cycle, where we work tirelessly to meet deadlines and tell stories that matter.
Rivaldo Jantjies, a Journalism Graduate and TV journalism Top Achiever, shares a similar experience. “When I first started, I was a fish out of water,” he says. “But my mentors took me under their wing, and I learned to take risks, push myself, and adapt fast.” His words resonate with me – the importance of mentorship and guidance cannot be overstated.
As I reflect on my own journey, I realize that our university experience should be about more than just survival – it should be about thriving.To succeed, journalists must be prepared to work long hours for low pay. It is a demanding profession that requires dedication and passion.
Despite these challenges, many of us are determined to make a difference through our stories. With the right mindset and support, we can navigate the industry’s obstacles and thrive. As a student journalist, I have seen firsthand the hard work and commitment needed to produce high-quality work.
The effects of hunger among students need sensitivity and cannot be ignored.
The continued struggle of access to food for students in South Africa is a cause for concern and an urgent matter that needs to be addressed. Government feeding schemes are designed to help alleviate hunger among learners from primary school to high school level. Yet, even with these measures in place the problem of food insecurity persists.
Food insecurity refers to the physical unavailability of food where people are undernourished due to their lack of social or economic access to adequate food. It is worth emphasizing that food insecurity is not only the lack of food, but also a lack of access to nutritious and nourishing food.
Empty refrigerator with few consumable items. Photo: Simphiwe Maduma
Students without food or those who can only afford one meal a day are forced to attend classes on an empty stomach while waiting for lunchtime to receive their meal for the day. This poses serious implications in learning and concentration capacity and ability, therefore affecting students’ academic performance.
There is also the social well-being aspect of this problem for students such as difficulty in socializing. These students feel the need to hide their hunger and need for food to avoid being ostracized by their peers. This also affects their enthusiasm and ability to partake in campus life which forms part of socializing and engaging in new experiences.
The proportion of households in South Africa that experienced moderate to severe food insecurity was estimated at 19,7% in 2023. For students who come from such households, learning can be a nightmare.
FEATURED IMAGE: Small size empty takeaway container. PHOTO: Zanele S. Maduma
Artificial intelligence has the power to enhance journalism, but is journalism in more danger because of it?
Amid the chaos of a digital landscape currently being agitated and renovated by generative artificial intelligence, the news industry is no exception to its explosive impact. UNESCO aims to address this at a conference in Brussels on May 7 in commemoration of the 32nd World Press Freedom Day.
World Press Freedom Day takes place annually on May 3 to highlight the press’s current challenges and to raise awareness.
This year, the focus is on ‘Reporting in the Brave New World – the impact of artificial intelligence (AI) on press freedom and the media, highlighting the opportunities and challenges that AI has brought to journalism.
Unsurprisingly, generative AI is taking centre stage, as its disruption to the world of technology is too stark to ignore, especially in the news industry.
Principally, we know that news summarises and simplifies information. Broadcasts and articles essentially catch you up on current, recent or ongoing events and weave in analysis or interpretation.
So, does involving AI in this process really pose a threat as a technology that can soak up information in one form, drawing from existing sources to pour the same information into a different mould after?
Yes and no. I believe that anything involving AI means walking a tightrope and, as journalists, falling off that rope means jeopardising the foundation within which journalistic practice is built on — ethics.
A 2025 report by Thomas Reuters Foundation (TRF), paints the nuances of AI use in journalism in the Global South.
It states that 81.7% of journalists already use AI tools like CHATGPT in their journalistic work for drafting and editing content, research, fact-checking and idea generation to save time, reach new audiences and work more efficiently. Starkly, only 13% report using any official AI policy with 79.1% reporting an absence of any clear guidelines.
Of the few non-users, lack of awareness or knowledge of AI tools, insufficient training and support, lack of access to necessary technology, concerns about accuracy and reliability, ethical concerns, preference over traditional methods and fear of job displacement were some of the main reasons for not using AI.
Where newsrooms lack formal guidance and self-education on using AI tools prevails, transparency becomes fragile which is concerning when trust in journalism and the media is already tainted. I am at a crossroads because if AI use is disclosed in news articles, I’m not entirely sure if that would make me trust a news agency more.
That is because I value journalism’s core ethics and skills: original reporting, quality, accuracy, fact-checking and source verification.
Where ethics are concerned, one may question if post-evaluation of AI produced content was done because AI is known to sometimes hallucinate information, supercharging the spread of misinformation. So, as journalism is defined, it still leads as a reliable, fact-checked source of information.
Another ethical concern, as highlighted by The Conversation, is that while journalists may ask for the generation of summaries or idea prompts, sensitive information or copyrighted material is inadvertently uploaded into these public generative AI tools, which not only contravenes company policies but journalistic integrity.
TRF recommends that journalists “understand the ethical implications of AI”. These include “advocating for policies and practices that protect journalistic integrity, while also ensuring fairness and accuracy, and promoting trust with audiences.”
All of this considered, I cannot downplay the ease that AI has brought journalists. It should be welcomed in newsrooms as long as originality and critical thinking isn’t destroyed in the process.
FEATURED IMAGE: Live news broadcast by robot news anchor with breaking news lower thirds and a digital world backdrop. Graphic: Lukholo Mazibuko
Institutions of higher learning collect millions in non-refundable application fees while thousands of hopefuls are rejected.
As South Africa’s university application season gets underway, the issue of application fees rears its head again, as many wonder why some institutions of higher learning continue to profit while access remains deeply unequal.
Every year, thousands of hopeful students submit university applications, dreaming of a better future. For many, higher education is a way out of generational poverty, a shot at stability, or simply the next step in their growth. But beyond the administrative process of applications lies an overlooked yet significant source of revenue for institutions: non-refundable application fees.
Take the University of the Witwatersrand as a case study. According to Wits news, the university received around 85 000 undergraduate applications for the 2025 academic year. Yet, only about 6 000 first-year students could be registered. This means the vast majority of applicants paid the fees and were ultimately not admitted.
The undergraduate application fee at Wits is R100 for South African citizens and a steep R700 for international students. Postgraduate applicants are charged R200 per application. Multiply those numbers across tens of thousands of applicants, and the revenue becomes significant, even before a single student sets foot on campus.
Wits is not the only institution profiting from this model. The University of Pretoria (UP) and Sefako Makgatho University (SMU) each charge R300 – a hefty amount for many South African families.
This issue has also sparked national debate and caught the attention of Parliament, according to IOL. In a media statement, the Portfolio Committee on higher Education said the practice of collecting fees regardless of whether a student is admitted is concerning.
On the other end of the spectrum, the Public Servants Association (PSA) has called for the “abolishment of unjustifiable application fees.” The PSA argued that these fees result in universities making massive profits even when applications are rejected. “One university reportedly received over 600 000 applications, with applicants each paying a R200 application fee. The university made an enormous profit of R150 million to just reject applications,” a PSA statement said.
From the institutions’ viewpoint, the financial strain they face is real. Universities like Wits carry the weight of providing world-class education in an economy where many students can’t afford to pay tuition. Some students register with fee waivers, which is a progressive move, and many owe thousands in unpaid fees. Yet, the university must continue operating – paying staff, maintaining facilities, and ensuring academic quality.
Speaking to IOL, Wits University’s spokesperson, Shirona Patel, said the university employs hundreds of assistants, senior students, and part-time staff to support the application, administration, and orientation processes at the start of the academic year. Additionally, the university highlighted the ongoing costs of maintaining online platforms and associated technology.
Still, one can’t help but ask: If a large institution like the University of Johannesburg (UJ) can process thousands of applications without charging a cent when one is applying online, why can’t those who charge application fees follow suit?
According to UJ news, the university received more than 760 000 applications (study choices) from 400 000 applicants. UJ said in a Facebook post, almost 99% of these applications were made online, meaning they were processed without an application fee.
This raises the question: Is the application fee truly an administrative necessity?
In a country where education is supposed to be a pathway out of poverty, monetising the application process, especially when rejection is more likely than acceptance, begs for critical reflection.
FEATURED IMAGE: A list of South African universities without application fees. Photo: Nthabiseng Baloyi
When degrading women is the punchline, what does that reveal about the audience laughing along?
“Minnie’s pretty bro. Why can’t she keep a man?”
“Bro, I’m telling you man. There’s got to be something wrong with her. Maybe her coochie smells or something. You know this happens, bro, it happens, especially with the hot girls.”
“Mac, what if she can’t cook?”
That’s not an out-of-character quote or a harmless joke gone too far. It’s yet another example of the routine misogyny that fuels Podcast and Chill, the cult-like podcast and online show that’s been trading integrity for views since 2018.
On April 24, Podcast and Chill co-hosts Macgyver Mukwevho “MacG” and Sol Phenduka once again crossed the line between edgy commentary and outright misogyny. While discussing media personality Minnie Dlamini’s recent breakup with businessman Brian Monaisa, the conversation quickly spiralled into provocative territory as the pair speculated on the reasons for their split.
This is not new or surprising. This is exactly what a large amount of South African entertainment has become – a breeding ground for lazy, degrading speech against women dressed up as unfiltered commentary.
The irony came fast and loud when, on April 28, Moja Love condemned MacG’s remarks. Yes, that Moja Love. The channel that built its brand on exploiting poor, vulnerable and black South Africans, suddenly wants to be the voice of reason.
The same Moja Love that the Broadcasting Complaints Commission of South Africa (BCCSA) fined in 2023 for airing scenes of domestic violence on Isencane Lengane without trigger warnings or adequate support for the abused being filmed. The same broadcaster that aired Uyajola 9/9, a show that turns toxic relationships into Sunday night entertainment.
Spare us the moral high ground.
Where are the gatekeepers? Unfazed, it seems. By carrying Moja Love and MacG’s content, broadcasters like DStv fail to uphold the principles of the BCCSA’s code of conduct.
This code protects viewers from harmful content and ensures fair and balanced programming. It states that broadcasting licensees must “exercise exceptional care and consideration in matters involving the privacy, dignity and reputation of individuals.”
The code goes on to expressly state that licensees “must not broadcast material which […] sanctions, promotes or glamorises violence or unlawful conduct based on race, national or ethnic origin, colour, religion, [or] gender.”
Let’s be honest. Podcast and Chill isn’t the disease, it’s the symptom. The South African entertainment industry has fallen in love with controversy because outrage pays. Misogyny and vulgarity are now marketed as “being real.” The uglier the take, the better the numbers.
Podcast and Chill is one of the most consumed shows in the country, with 1.57 million subscribers on YouTube. Moja Love still pulls audiences despite constant public backlash.
So what does this say about us? Is our appetite for entertainment so bottomless that we’ll swallow anything, even casual violence or gender-based humiliation?
We’re not just bystanders. We’re complicit.
If the South African entertainment industry won’t change, then maybe the public should change the channel.
Or at the very least, ask ourselves, “why are we still watching?”
FEATURED IMAGE: Podcast and Chill co-hosts MacG and Sol Phenduka have ignited another sexism scandal, this time taking aim at actress Minnie Dlamini. Graphic: Mbali Khumalo.
Despite democracy, inequality remains deeply rooted in South Africa. Colonial-era systems and weak leadership keep many struggling, making true freedom feel like an illusion rather than reality.
South Africans celebrated Freedom Day on April 27, marking 31 years of freedom, but a nation once propelled by the dreams of liberation, finds itself in a paradox where democracy exists in name but fails in practice. The leadership that once embodied conviction and purpose has been replaced by individuals who merely perform the motions of governance without substance. The country’s political landscape reflects a deeper crisis, one rooted in the mechanisms of governmentality and the remnants of colonial power.
Governmentality and the Performance of Power
Scholar, Derek Hook, describes governmentality as a form of power that operates by managing perceptions rather than delivering structural change. By repeatedly acknowledging inequality and promising reforms that take time, leaders create the illusion of progress. This performance encourages citizens to self-regulate, internalise patience, believe change is underway and at times defer their demands of justice.
South African leaders lack the conviction necessary to drive transformative change. They have settled into a comfortable routine of political theatre; reciting the language of democracy and equality while presiding over systems that perpetuate inequality. Nowhere is this more painfully visible than in the education system.
Recent studies highlight persistent educational inequalities. The 2023 Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS) revealed that well-resourced schools in affluent areas continue to outperform poorly resourced schools in marginalised communities. Basic Education Minister, Siviwe Gwarube acknowledged that, despite post-apartheid reforms, the education system remains highly unequal, with significant disparities in infrastructure, teacher absenteeism and learning outcomes.
A pattern exists where leaders publicly commit to addressing educational inequalities, but the lack of decisive action and effective implementation perpetuates the status quo.
The people, distracted by the spectacle of governance, remain trapped in a system designed to keep power in the hands of the privileged.
Frantz Fanon, one of the most influential thinkers on colonialism and decolonialism, provides critical insights into South Africa’s predicament. In Black Skin, White Masks and The Wretched of the Earth, Fanon explores how colonial rule systematically dehumanises the colonised, stripping them of agency and trapping them in a cycle of psychological inferiority.
Despite South Africa’s political independence, the psychological scars of colonialism continue to shape governance and societal structures. The black mind, conditioned by generations of oppression, has internalised the logic of colonial rule, accepting leadership that fails to challenge existing power dynamics.
The Contradictions of Freedom and Democracy
Freedom in South Africa is often celebrated through constitutional promises; rights to equality, dignity, and movement. Yet, the gap between legal freedom and lived experience is undeniable.
For instance, the right to freedom of expression, particularly in university spaces, is often suppressed by fear. Students hesitate to speak out, fearing institutional retaliation. Recent protests against financial exclusion or poor accommodation conditions are met with resistance, reinforcing the limits of supposed freedoms.
Self-censorship becomes a defence mechanism, a response to the unspoken threat of expulsion or punishment. This psychological fear sustains oppression, ensuring that power remains unchallenged.
As long as fear dictates action, true freedom will remain an illusion. If fear keeps us silent and institutions such as government and universities etc, prioritise self-preservation over real change, can we truly call this freedom?
A student was fatally shot during a protest at Walter Sisulu University, Mthatha campus.
The tragedy unfolding at Walter Sisulu University (WSU) is more than just a case of a violent protest. It is a symptom of a long-standing problem of neglect, unfulfilled commitments, disregarded voices, and the worsening conditions many students endure while pursuing their education.
A protest about poor living conditions at a student residence quickly spiralled into chaos, as three students were shot (one killed and three who sustained minor injuries). A 54-year-old suspect has since been arrested, it is alleged that he was a residence manager at the university. Initially, the institution then rushed to control the narrative, focusing on whether the deceased was a registered student and highlighting that the protest turned violent and broke residence rules.
But we ask a much deeper question: would students have taken to the streets, would tempers have flared, would any lives have been put at risk if student accommodation were safe and truly dignified?
Across many universities in South Africa, student accommodation is in crisis. Insufficient space, maintenance issues, unsafe buildings, and lack of proper oversight have become commonplace. Many students, particularly those from working-class backgrounds, leave home with big dreams only to arrive at residences in horrendous conditions or no accommodation at all.
So, when these students sleep in unsafe, unhealthy, dilapidated buildings that go years without maintenance, is it actually a surprise that frustration boils over?
If a protest can escalate into gunfire, regardless of who pulled the trigger, then there is a visible failure in how institutions protect both students and staff. A campus should be a space of learning, safety and open dialogue.
Violence does not just happen, it grows where people are unheard, unseen and uncared for. If the conditions in the residences were decent, and students had a safe place to sleep, perhaps there would have been no protest and certainly no bloodshed.
Higher institutions must come to a realisation that these student accommodations are not just buildings, beds and bathrooms. It is about whether students feel safe, respected and valued in the place they call home for years of their academic lives.
FEATURED IMAGE: Abena Mahlahlane. Photo: File/Paul Botes
The IPID has dropped its charges against KZN’s Provincial Police Commissioner due to a lack of evidence.
The Independent Police Investigative Directorate (IPID) has officially dropped its charges against the Provincial Police Commissioner of KwaZulu-Natal (KZN). The case, launched on March 19, was a result of an anonymous tip off against Lieutenant General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi.
According to EyeWitness News, he was accused of having cleared allegations against a prison official, Feroz Khan, who was alleged to have interfered in a drug dealing case.
There’s been a lot of noise around Mkhwanazi lately. Under his leadership, KZN has seen a more assertive police force that isn’t afraid to take the fight to criminals. As recent as January 30, the police were involved in a shootout with Inanda West Gang, a notorious gang that has been terrorising communities in northern Durban.
Mkhwanazi has publicly declared war on gang crime and gun violence, with over 100 suspects getting killed during confrontations with KZN police units. It’s no surprise that figures like National Assembly Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee of Police Ian Cameron have raised concerns about the political undertones of the IPID’s case against Mkhwanazi.
There are questions worth asking. Was this ever really about justice, or just a way to sideline a cop who doesn’t play politics? The latest crime stats from the South African Police Service (SAPS), ranging from October to December 2024, show a 1.6% decrease in contact crime. KZN showed a significant decrease in murders by 9.5% amongst other contact-related crimes.
Some commentators have tried to paint his approach as ruthless and unduly lethal, with the DA leading the charge of pressuring SAPS to implement body cams for everyday operations. However, if that means showing up, cracking down on drug networks and, sending a clear message to criminals, then maybe it’s what the rest of the country needs to adapt to.
Recent data from the IPID in the fiscal year of 2023-2024 reported significant concerns regarding the use of force by the South African Police Service (SAPS) and they additionally reported 187 deaths resulting from police action in KZN, the highest in all provinces. This alarming number was countered by Minister of Police Senzo Mchunu, who argues that these were results of police acting in self-defence against suspects.
Law enforcement can’t be effective when it’s second-guessed at every turn by people who’ve never been put in highly threatening situations. Communities under siege from gangs and drug dealers don’t need long lectures, they need decisive action. Mkhwanazi has been open in recent interviews about the fact that being soft on crime simply doesn’t work in this country and he’s not wrong.
Perhaps, it is time we let more leaders like him do just that, even if we disagree with the methods at hand. A stronger law enforcement system is needed now more than ever, with a balanced reform of policing and law enforcement protocols. That will assist in ensuring that all crime is addressed fairly, immediately and without bias against SAPS.
FEATURED IMAGE: Katlego Makhutle. Photo: File/Paul Botes
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